NGTH 


THE    STRENGTH    OF    THE   WEAK 


By  C.  C.  HOTCHKISS. 
Betsy  Ross. 

A  Romance  of  the  Flag. 
J2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

The  rnmanrt:  which  the  author  has  woven  around  the 
origin  of  cur  ila^  will  quicken  the  pulsi:  of  every  reader 
by  the  wealth  of  striking  eha)  .Meters  and  dramatic  inci 
dents,  and  the.  absorbing  interest  of  the  plot.  History  has 
furnished  a  motive  v>  hi'  h  has  been  curii  usly  nejjl 
fiction,  and  the  ;  :  ture:  :'.:  '..  UP  -  •"  '!.  time,  sea-rangers 
and  Ouakers,  ;'••  Icoats.  and  (  -.  and  even 

Washington  himself,  have  to  d  •  \vitl:  'Jv-  il'-vrlnjjinent  of 
a  strange  an<!  thriliin;;'  stcry  wherein  lielsy  Koss  take-  the 
leading  part. 

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"  Altogether  a  distini:t  addition  to  the  historical  ro 
mances,  i  if  to-day."-  tii'sf'.'n  'transcript. 

"  It  is  not  to  i  hiLdi  jiraistr  to  say  that  the  author  has 
pven  us  in  this  story  the  most  satisfactory  account  of  the 
llritish  occupancy  of  New  York  that  ha.-  yet  been  fur 
nished  in  the  Jiui.-x-  of  fiction." — ."iVr;1  Yfrk  '1  iines. 

In  Defiance  of  the  King. 

A  Romance  of  the  American  Revolution. 

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''Mr.  Hotchkiss  has  etched  in  burning  words  a  story 
of  Hriti-h  cruelty,  Yank'  e  braverv,  and  true  love  that 
thrills  from  be^innin^;  to  end  with  the  spirit  of  the  Revo 
lution.  .  .  .  '1  liou^h  he  is  often  deliberate,  IK-  rushes 
aion^  breathle.-s.ly  when  the  occasion  demards.  His 
whole  story  is  so  absorbing  that  you  will  sit  up  far  into 
the-  niidit  to  finish  it.  You  lay  it  aside'  with  the  feeling 
that  you  have  seen  a  gloriously  true  picture  of  the  Revo 
lution."—  Hcston  Herald. 

D.    AI'PI.ETOX    AND    COMPANY,    NK\V   YORK. 


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I     THE  STRENGTH    | 
I     OF  THE  WEAK    ! 

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|                       CHAUNCEY    C.   HOTCHKISS  | 

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SI/  Author  of  Betsy   Ross                                   SW1 

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SI/                              ///   Defiance  of  the   King,  etc.  \V 

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COI'YKKIIIT,     1902 

!v   IX    AITLKTON    AND   COMPANY 


Stack 


TO 
MY    WIFE 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I. — THE    SWOOP    OF    THE    HAWK I 

II. — THE  HOUSE  OF  CHATSWORTH 6 

III. — THE  VOYAGEUR 10 

IV. — A    LEGAL    THIEF 2O 

V. — THE  EXPLOSION 28 

VI. — THE  DUEL 43 

VII. — A  PRISONER 49 

VIII. — THE  SLOUGH  OF  DESPOND 63 

IX. — THE  CELLAR 71 

X. — A    FAIR    EXCHANGE 8l 

XL— IN   THE   CHATEAU g2 

XII. — TEMPTED  I;Y  THE  DEVIL 100 

XIII. — AT  BAY 106 

XIV. — THE    DEVIL    CARES    FOR    HIS    OWN        ....  Xl6 

XV. — THE  TURN  OF  THE  TABLES 124 

XVI. — JESSIE  SPAULDING 130 

XVII. — WOODCRAFT 134 

XVIII. — THE    BITER    BITTEN 141 

XIX. — IN    THE    DARK 148 

XX. — THE  FLIGHT 153 

XXL — IN    THE    WILDERNESS l6o 

XXII. — "  HALTE  LA" 169 

XXIII. — GUESTS  OR  PRISONERS? 176 

XXIV. — I    HEAR    NEWS 184 

XXV. — SELF-DEFENCE igi 

vii 


The   Strength   of  the   Weak 

CHAPTER  I'AGE 

XXVI. — A    BLOODLESS    COMBAT I()S 

XXVII. — I/ANGVILLE 210 

XXVIII. — LA  CHEVKLURE 217 

XXIX. — A    FRIEND    IN    NEED 22J 

XXX. — THE  EIC.IIT 258 

XXXI. — FREE  TO  ACT  ........  243 

XXXII. —  THROUGH  THE  FRENCH  CAMP        ....  2?S 

XXXIII.— \\'E  START 265 

XXXIV. — Sol'THWARD 2^0 

XXXV.  —  A    RESPITE 2c;0 

XXXVL— BESET 501 

XXXVII.— THE  PASS 309 

XXXVIII. — THE  FORT 317 

XXXIX. — Tin:  ATTACK 326 

XL. — THE  PASSIM;  OF  I.'Axorii.i.K        ....  334 

XLI. — THE  ')  RACK  OF  THE  ARMY    .....  341 

XLII. — BLOODY   POND         .......  348 

XLIII. — THE  MAS>ACKE 355 

XLIV.— I   WIN 359 

XLV. — CONCLUSION 367 


via 


THE  STRENGTH   OF  THE  WEAK 


CHAPTER    I 

THE    SWOOP    OF   THE    HAWK 

Ix  front  of  the  house  and  towards  the  river  there 
is  a  sweep  of  land  like  an  English  lawn,  with  only  a 
sprinkling  of  timber,  which  stops  entirely  before  reach 
ing  the  boat  landing.  And  it  was  on  this  space,  fair 
and  level,  called  the  "  fighting  sod,"  that  we  faced  each 
other. 

I  can  see  the  old  man  now :  his  tall  and  wasted 
figure  erect,  a  scowl  contracting  his  bushy  eyebrows, 
while  his  upturned,  snowy  mustache  made  his  face  as 
stern  as  though  he  were  on  a  duelling  ground  and  I  a 
veritable  opponent.  It  was  no  child's  play  to  him — 
nay,  nor  to  me — these  fencing  lessons ;  for  old  Peyrotte 
was  a  strict  master,  or,  rather,  he  hung  fast  to  discipline ; 
and  even  to  me,  whom  he  loved  as  his  own  child,  when 
it  came  to  the  foils  and  he  was  drilling  me,  he  was  a 
martinet  and  as  severe  in  points  of  the  etiquette  of 
a  swordsman  as  in  points  of  the  "  parade."  In  those 
hours  I  was  no  more  than  a  recruit  in  the  corps  de  garde, 
my  early  awkwardness  reminding  him  of  his  past  days 
in  France,  k  bon  temps  qui  cst  passe,  he  called  them, 
when  he  made  a  soldier  of  a  peasant  before  he  was  fairly 
out  of  sabots.  And  I  live  to  thank  him  for  his  thorough 
ness. 

Peyrotte  had  always  been  old  to  me ;  even  my  early 
memory  giving  him  his  white  mustache  brushed 


The   Strength   of  the   Weak 

sharply  up  at  the  ends,  and  mv  first  recollection  of  him 
is  of  attacking  him  with  his  own  threat  rapier,  which  1 
was  forced  to  wield  with  both  hands,  while  he,  seated 
on  a  low  stone  to  bring  himself  near  mv  own  height — 
or  lack  of  it — parried  my  thrusts  with  a  light  stick. 
Kven  then  lie  turned  to  mv  father,  who  was  looking  on, 
mightily  amused,  no  doubt,  and  said: 

"  I  will  make  a  fencer  of  the  lad  some  day,  mon 
camarade.  lie  will  draw  a  brave  sword  for  France." 

lint   I  never  drew  sword  for  France. 

What  the  relations  were  betwixt  mv  father  and 
Pevrotte  1  knew  not.  It  came  to  me  (as  some  things 
come  to  one  without  a  remembrance  of  the  source)  that 
the  old  man  was  a  native  of  Xantes,  and  had  been  an 
officer  of  the  guard  in  the  palace  of  the  great  Louis  of 
hideous  memory,  who,  for  some  fault,  real  or  fancied, 
had  exiled  him  from  France.  For  myself.  1  knew  him 
to  be  a  master-at-arms,  and  the  gentlest,  most  fiery,  and 
withal  as  noble  a  nature  (the  noblest  but  one)  as  ere 
crossed  my  path.  \  erv  little  of  his  past  had  I  ever 
known,  and  nothing  of  his  family,  the  failure  of  his  for 
tunes,  or  the  reason  he  had  attached  himself  to  our 
house.  1  had  gathered,  somehow,  that  he  was  related  to 
my  father's  first  wife;  but  he  was  not  a  man  to  be  ques 
tioned  on  these  matters,  and  his  name  cast  no  light  on 
his  pedigree. 

"Aha,  m'sieur!  Why  do  you  play  your  sword 
with  an  arm  stiff  and  jointless?  "  he  broke  out.  "  Have 
I  to  tell  you  ten  million  times  that  you  are  no  Ilulien'? 
It  is  their  fashion  to  fence  with  a  straight  elbow,  and 
for  that  reason  they  cannot  face  a  skilled  Frenchman. 
(jive  thy  elbow  ease — bend  it — bend  it,  m'sieur  le 
seigneur;  it  will  be  better  en  ijiiartc,  or  when  von  dis 
engage,  or  en  glissade.  Ah,  'tis  well!  Hut  thv  elbow 
should  be  the1  hickory  wand  that  springs.  Thrust  not 
with  thy  body  and  at  arm's  length.  I'lay  thy  point, 


The  Swoop  of  the  Hawk 

m'sieur ;  play  thy — so —  By  Saint  Joseph,  that  tierce 
were  well  done  ;  thou  hast  skinned  my  shoulder !  Thou 
will  come  in  time,  m'sieur ;  thou  will  come  in  time. 
I  will  make  a  fencer  of  thee  some  day,  mon  camarade. 
Thou  art  awakening  fast.  En  garde! " 

But  we  had  barely  recrossed  our  steels  when  a  canoe 
danced  from  behind  the  screen  of  trees  at  my  back  and 
made  straight  for  the  landing.  I  knew  naught  of  it 
until  I  saw  Peyrotte  drop  his  point  and  gaze,  and  so  I 
turned  in  time  to  mark  the  light  vessel  slide  to  the  shore. 
In  it  were  two  French  soldiers  and  two  Indians  of  a 
tribe  I  knew  not,  and  something  else  so  huddled  that 
it  took  a  moment  or  more  for  me  to  find  it  a  human 
being.  And  without  ado  they  came  ashore,  as  though 
the  right  was  all  their  own,  lifting  the  living  bundle  to 
the  grass,  where  it  sat  bound  and  helpless,  only  moving 
with  a  swaying  motion  as  though  about  to  fall.  But 
when  they  uncovered  it  I  saw  it  was  a  girl,  bound  and 
gagged.  It  was  a  pitiful  thing  to  see  that  small  figure 
in  such  helpless  straits ;  but  when  she  was  freed  from 
her  bonds  and  the  gag  removed,  she  looked  about  her 
with  great  brown  eyes,  then  sent  out  a  shriek  with  such 
strength  and  pity  in  it  that  the  air  was  full  of  her  dis 
tress.  And  then  I  saw  a  light-haired  girl — a  mere 
child,  not  more  than  twelve  or  fourteen  years  of  age, 
though  it  was  hard  to  tell  how  old  she  was.  A  wee 
thing  and  unformed,  with  a  face  so  full  of  terror 
and  suffering  that  all  her  comeliness  had  left  her  (if 
she  had  ever  possessed  any),  except  in  her  eyes, 
which  were  of  that  soft,  appealing  kind  more  often 
seen  in  helpless,  dumb  animals  than  in  man  or  woman. 
At  the  cry,  one  of  the  Indians  smote  her  across  the 
mouth  with  a  blow  that  knocked  her  backward  to  the 
grass  on  which  she  was  sitting;  whereat  I,  having  come 
up,  seemed  to  lose  all  sense  of  consequence,  and  drove 
my  fist  full  into  the  face  of  the  barbarian  with  a  force  that 

3 


The  Strength  of  the   Weak 

sent  him  staggering  against  the  soldier  behind  him. 
The  devil  in  him  flashed  from  his  wicked  eyes  in  a  trice, 
and  I  saw  the  glint  of  his  knife  as  he  drew  it;  but 
Peyrotte  stepped  between  us  and  raised  his  foil,  but 
toned  as  it  was,  as  though  to  receive  him,  while  [  bent 
to  the  small  maiden  and  lifted  her  from  the  ground  ; 
and  it  was  an  easy  thing  to  do.  At  that  her  shrieks 
turned  to  sobbing,  and  she  wound  her  little  arms  about 
my  neck,  clinging  tightly,  and  crying  in  English : 
"  Don't  let  them  kill  me;  don't  let  them  take  me!  () 
papa!  I  shall  die!  1  shall  die!"  And  then  I  knew  [ 
was  holding  an  English  maiden,  a  captive — the  fruit  of 
some  raid  against  the  English  frontier. 

And  so  it  was  ;  for  presently,  after  a  deal  of  talk  in 
a  dialect  of  which  I  had  no  understanding,  though  there 
were  sprinkled  throughout  some  vile  oaths  on  the  part 
of  the  .Indians,  and  a  tine  flow  of  genuine  Erench  from 
Peyrotte,  in  which  were  a  few  royal  curses,  the  trouble 
was  quieted,  and  we  got  at  the  facts.  There  was  nothing 
novel  in  them.  A  war  part}'  of  whites  and  Indians  had 
descended  into  the  New  Hampshire  grants,  going  well- 
nigh  to  the  colony  of  Massachusetts  before  they  met 
with  adventure  worthy  of  their  purposes.  At  Dum- 
merston  they  had  come  upon  the  first  organized  resist 
ance,  and  were  forced  to  retreat ;  but,  as  a  souvenir  of 
the  raid,  had  carried  off  this  child  of  one  of  the  outlying 
settlers,  after  killing  her  father  and  five  or  six  of  the 
inhabitants,  though  losing  about  a  third  of  their  own 
number.  The  landing  had  become  necessary  through 
a  lack  of  provisions,  the  party  being  on  its  way  to  Eort 
Erontenac,  at  the  foot  of  Ontario  ;  and  there  the  maiden 
was  to  await  the  coming  of  a  Erench  officer,  who,  some 
how,  held  her  at  his  disposal.  Xo  doubt  the  red-skins 
would  have  gladly  been  rid  of  her  long  since,  with  a 
golden  scalp  to  hang  at  the  belt  of  one  of  them  ;  for 
she  had  given  much  trouble,  the  binding  and  gagging 

4 


The  Swoop  of  the  Hawk 

having-  been  resorted  to  as  the  only  means  of  quieting 
her  wild  outcries  and  her  struggles. 

I  had  heard  the  like  of  such  raids  more  than  once, 
but  things  are  never  so  strong  as  when  they  come  home 
to  us,  and  this  wrought  upon  me  strangely.  Still  was 
1  without  power  to  ease  the  child  in  her  captivity  or 
give  her  a  grain  of  comfort,  so  I  held  my  tongue  to  her 
about  her  probable  future,  though  I  feared  I  could 
scent  tragedy  in  the  end.  And,  indeed,  tragedy  came 
at  last,  though  not  in  the  way  I  thought ;  and  as  for 
the  end,  it  is  not  yet,  thank  God.  To  lift  a  finger  for 
her  escape,  or  even  express  great  sympathy  too  openly, 
would  have  been  to  run  the  whole  house  into  certain 
danger.  But  I  heartened  the  poor  thing  (or  tried  to) 
in  English,  which  I  trusted  would  not  be  understood 
by  the  others ;  and  she  was  washed  and  fed  at  the 
chateau  and  quieted  by  my  mother,  and  then,  within 
the  hour  of  her  coming,  she  was  off  with  her  captors. 
Not  a  sound  did  she  make  at  last,  only  sobbing;  but  it 
was  heart-rending  to  see  her  stretch  out  her  arms  to  me 
as  the  canoe  shot  away. 


CHAPTER    II 

THE    1IOUSK    OF    ClIATSWokTII 

Xo\v,  this  incident  was  barclv  out  of  my  constant 
thoughts  ere  other  matters  happened  to  drive  it  com- 
pletelv  into  the  background.  And  one  was.  the  wav 
\ve  were  singled  out  by  tlie  (Juel)ec  authorities  for  petty 
persecution.  It  mi^ht  liave  been  sini]>lv  because  we 
were  Knglish,  at  a  time  when  Knglish  blood  had  an  un 
wholesome  flavour  to  a  Frenchman,  or  because  \\-e  were 
not  Catholic  (although  inv  father  had  been),  Hut.  any 
how,  though  seii^neuries  all  about  us  were  unmolested 
by  that  colossal  villain,  the  mtendant,  ISi^ot,  we  were 
being  mulcted  through  his  practice  of  taking  our  strain 
and  all  else  he  desired,  by  force  of  law,  paying  therefor  a 
mere  ]>ittance  ;  \\hereas,  when  \ve  came  to  buy  from  him 
(as  we  were  sometimes  forced  to  do  from  our  own  neces 
sities),  we  were  robbed  bv  the  extravagance  of  his 
charges.  (  )ver  all  Canada  his  agents  roved,  living  on 
the  fat  of  the  land  and  sparing  not  the  poorest  of  the 
habitant?,  though  they  could  count  their  store  in  but  a 
do/en  bushels. 

The  sei.tnieuries  were  passed,  as  a  rule,  but,  as  I  have 
said,  for  some  reason  we  were  pitched  upon — probably 
because  we  had  no  power  at  court.  It  was  robbery  of 
both  kin^  and  people,  for  some  two-thirds  of  the  profits 
of  these  transactions  stuck  to  the  finders  of  lli^ot  and 
his  familiar,  Joseph  C'adet.  And  they  waxed  rich,  and 
were  feared  by  I)u  (Juesne  (who  was  then  governor), 
and  were  winked  at  by  Yuudreuil,  who  afterward 

6 


The   House  of  Chatsworth 

showed  himself  to  be  the  weakest-kneed  man  who  ever 
graced  the  pseudo  throne  of  New  France. 

It  is  true  that  the  intendant  and  his  fellows  paid  the 
penalty  of  their  misdeeds  years  after ;  but  at  the  time  of 
which  I  write  Bigot  was  at  the  height  of  his  power, 
being:  all  but  chief  ruler  of  the  whole  of  Canada ;  and 

o 

none  would  have  dared  gainsay  him  had  he  taken  an 
entire  harvest  and  paid  only  in  promises. 

I  was  a  youth  then,  unfledged  in  the  ways  of  the 
world ;  lacking  not  the  wit,  but  the  opportunity,  or, 
rather,  taste  for  society  at  large,  else  I  might  have 
known  more  of  the  reason  that  compelled  our  house — 
the  house  of  Chatsworth — into  the  background ;  but  I 
was  not  to  know  until  the  knowledge  came  like  a  cloud 
burst  ;  and  yet,  though  I  made  no  complaint,  had  I 
been  fairly  dealt  with,  I  would  have  known  as  a  boy 
that  which  was  vouchsafed  me  only  when  I  had  become 
a  man,  when  only  by  the  merest  chance  I  escaped  ruin 
from  its  having  been  withheld. 

Like  many  a  man  of  tardy  maturity,  I  look  back 
on  childhood  and  even  early  youth,  and  events  come 
out  like  dreams  without  continuity.  But  time  rolled 
by  until  I  was  shocked  into  a  sort  of  awakening  by  the 
murder  of  my  father,  who  died  at  the  hands  of  a  man  I 
knew  naught  of  until  years  after.  And  old  Peyrotte, 
who  was  with  him,  bore  back  the  news  and  the  remains 
of  his  master,  together  with  something  in  the  way  of  a 
writing  that  I  had  never  been  allowed  to  see.  My 
father  had  gone  to  Quebec  on  a  mission,  and  was  there 
slain,  but  whether  in  a  quarrel  or  in  ambush  (which 
latter  might  well  have  happened  in  those  days)  I  was 
uninformed,  being  then  but  little  more  than  a  lad  in 
years,  and  somewhat  less  in  understanding. 

I  knew  a  foul  thing  had  been  done,  and  felt  resent 
ment  in  a  boyish  fashion ;  but  when  I  asked  old  Peyrotte 
why  my  father  had  been  killed,  and  by  whom,  he  only 

7 


The   Strength   of  the   Weak 

swung"  his  great  hand  over  his  white  mustache  and  said 
he  feared  it  was  because  he  was  an  Englishman,  and  as 
for  his  slayer,  he  was  doubtless  a  Frenchman  ;  while  for 
the  Frenchman's  name — well,  c/iiicn  subc,  which  he  said 
was  Spanish  and  was  an  answer  to  many  questions. 

.And  that  was  the  first  reason  I  had  for  hating  the 
French,  but  it  was  not  the  last. 

[  might  have  known  that  an  English  seigneur  in  the 
heart  of  New  France  was  like  a  drone  in  a  hive,  a  thing 
to  be  cast  forth  ;  but  if  my  father,  in  his  worldly  wisdom, 
had  not  seen  the  danger,  why  should  I  ?  1  knew  there 
was  a  line  laid  like  a  bend  sinister  across  mv  mother 
and  myself  on  account  of  our  religion.  To  the  powers 
at  Quebec  our  lack  of  fealty  to  the  faith  of  the  estab 
lished  church  savoured  of  treason  to  the  state.  I  knew 
that  our  influence  in  Quebec  was  as  nothing,  and  1  cared 
little  for  it.  as  I  hated  the  place  for  the  way  it  contra 
dicted  itself — in  intent,  a  godly  town,  in  effect,  godless. 
I  knew  it  and  loathed  it.  and  yet,  through  sheer  timidity 
(or  bashfulness,  perhaps),  lived  in  it  for  a  whole  winter 
and  retained  my  innocence,  thank  God. 

I>y  the  time  I  was  twenty  years  of  age  [  had  seen 
enough  of  the  heartless  froth  and  glitter  and  court 
fashion,  mingled  with  the  deceit  and  broad  crime,  that 
marked  the  last  days  of  the  French  regime,  and  had  I 
not  by  this  time  become  more  than  a  merely  accom 
plished  swordsman,  I  would  probably  have  been  unable 
to  note  as  much  as  T  did  or  have  had  the  opportunity 
to  become  disgusted.  Once,  indeed.  I  was  called  a 
panic  moiiillcc  (or,  in  good,  sound  English,  a  "  milksop  ") 
by  one  of  the  swashbuckling  jciiucssc  Jorcc,  and  the  blow 
I  struck  him  was  followed  by  a  challenge.  The  youth 
was  disarmed  at  my  first  pass,  and  afterward  had  the 
grace  to  thank  me  for  not  killing  him.  There  was  no 
glory  in  it,  for  not  a  man  of  my  acquaintance  in  the 
whole  province  dared  cross  buttonless  steels  with  me, 


The  House  of  Chatsworth 

and  so  I  saw  my  fill  of  folly  and  escaped  being  broadly 
insulted  again. 

I  had  grown  to  be  a  comely  youth,  with  a  fair  figure 
and  the  lusty  health  and  strength  born  of  the  woods 
and  waters  and  the  crystal  air  of  the  winter,  and  I  might 
have  found  favour  and  bettered  the  condition  of  our 
house  had  I  pushed  my  way  and  been  less  of  a  home 
body  or  less  willing  to  ride  others  down  for  my  o\vn 
benefit.  There  were  glances  aplenty — and  bold  enough 
they  were,  too ;  but  I  was  callow  and — well,  "  se  la 
jeuncsse  savait  "  is  an  old  proverb  fitting  me  at  the  time. 


CHAPTER    III 

THE    VOYAGEUK 

\VHF.X  my  father  became  possessed  of  his  Canadian 
estate  he  had  seen  enough  of  the  politics  of  the  dav,  and 
with  his  title  to  the  scigncurv  he  claimed  retirement  from 
the  turmoil  and  intrigue  of  the  French  court  as  a  part 
of  the  reward  lor  his  services  to  France.  J  hcrefore, 
with  a  view  to  a  rest,  which  he  never  obtained,  he  built 
a  mansion,  but  in  such,  a  purely  Fng'lish  fashion  that 
the  authorities  at  (  hiebec  (who  were  envious,  no  doubt) 
found  great  fault  with  its  stvle,  holding  that  a  man  who 
had  changed  his  allegiance  had  better  follow  the  man 
ners  of  the  countrv  to  which  he  tendered  his  sword,  or 
lav  his  honestv  of  purpose  open  to  suspicion.  And  so, 
like  the  proverbial  oven,  the  house  was  altered  until  it 
reached  its  present  shape— that  is,  it  became  a  pleasant 
jumble  of  architecture,  full  of  corners  and  wandering' 
halls  and  rooms,  great  and  small,  on  the  inside,  and 
without,  a  wealth  of  chimncvs  and  gable-ends  and  dor 
mer  windows  cut  into  queer  places,  and  was  of  no 
fashion  whatever,  or  one  with  which  all  might  be  suited 
in  spots.  And  my  father  chose  the  name  of  De  Mantel, 
and  so  called  the'  estate  in  honour  of  his  first  wife's 
husband,  and  his  kinsman,  that  brave  Chevalier  De  Man 
tel  who  came  over  with  1  )e  Frontenac  and  did  such  g'ood 
work  in  the  wilderness  in  the  early  days  of  Xew  F'rance. 

The  Seig-neury  De  Mantel  faced  the  waters  of  Lake 
St.  Peter,  which  is  a  mere  incidental  widening-  of  the 
St.  Lawrence,  the  basin  of  the  expansion  being"  some 

10 


The  Voyageur 


four  miles  broad  by  nine  or  more  in  length,  and  broken 
by  wooded  islands  east  and  west  where  the  river  enters 
and  leaves  it.  From  the  landing-place  in  front  of  the 
house  the  islands  to  the  west  are  fairly  to  be  seen  in  clear 
weather,  though  even  then  they  seem  to  float  betwixt 
sky  and  water,  the  mirage  twisting  the  distance,  if  the 
eye  be  held  on  them.  And  on  this  day  of  which  I  write 
my  eye  was  being  held  on  them  until  they  blurred  in 
the  blinding  glare  of  the  sun,  for  I  had  seen  a  strange 
thing. 

It  was  early  in  June  and  one  of  those  mornings 
when  the  softness  of  nature,  and  the  prospect,  and  the 
air  make  youth  and  health  fairly  drunk  in  the  joy  of 
mere  living.  For  all  that  grew  galloped  in  a  mad  ex 
cess  of  life ;  every  tree  and  leaf  and  blade  w:ere  whis 
pering  little  messages  to  one  another,  with  a  fair  south 
wind  to  carry  them.  The  waves  lapped  against  the  land 
with  a  wonderful  smoothness  and  delicacy  as  though 
giving  a  soft  pat,  like  a  lover,  and  with  a  voice  that  said 
plainly  enough,  "  I  am  spring ;  I  have  come  again  and 
I  love  you." 

And  out  from  the  islands,  which  seemed  caught  up 
a  step  towards  heaven,  I  had  marked  a  speck  drop,  or 
appear  to,  on  to  the  bosom  of  the  lake,  and  then  creep 
in  my  direction.  As  it  grew  in  size  it  turned  out  to 
be  but  a  boat,  or  rather  a  canoe,  and  in  it  were  two 
figures  paddling  slowly.  Now  there  was  nothing  out  of 
the  common  in  this  had  this  been  all,  but  when  the  canoe 
had  floated  to  within  plain  sight  of  me  it  took  a  turn 
sharply  towards  the  shore,  just  above  the  point  where 
the  woods  meet  the  water  to  the  east  of  the  house,  and 
there,  not  three  rods  from  dry  land,  the  figures  ceased 
paddling  and  fell  to  fighting,  and  so  disappeared  behind 
the  tongue  of  the  forest. 

It  took  me  but  a  moment  to  leap  into  the  boat  that 
was  moored  at  my  feet  and  row  out  that  I  might  get  a 

ii 


The   Strength   of  the    Weak 

further  sight  of  them  ;  and  well  it  was  that  1  did — well 
for  inc.  1  mean. 

\\hat  I  saw  when  I  approached  was  apparent!  v  a 
log  of  wood  (though  1  knew  it  to  lie  the  overturned 
canoe)  with  an  Indian  astride  of  it.  bent  double,  as 
though  having  a  hold,  of  something  in  the  water  on  the 
side  towards  me.  I  had  hardly  sighted  him  when  the 
head  of  a  white  man  appeared  from  beneath  the  surface, 
onlv  to  be  grasped  again  bv  the  Indian,  who  was  plainlv 
trying  to  ])ush  the'  owner  under  and  hold  him  there. 
Xow,  1  knew  nothing"  of  the  rights  of  the  (juarrel,  but 
]  had  always  held  a  smothered  hatred  for  red-skins  of 
anv  tribe,  and  to  see  a  man  01  niv  o\\'n  colour  deliberaielv 
murdered  bv  one  of  them  was  more  than  1  could  stand. 
J  Icing  unarmed,  there  was  but  one  tiling  for  me  to  do, 
and  that  1  did.  Putting  mv  strength  to  the  oars,  1  rowed 
ahead  with  all  torce,  casting  niv  eves  over  niv  shoulder 
that  1  might  not  miss  mv  mark",  and  at  full  >peed  drove 
with  a  crash  into  the  frail  bark  canoe1,  not  onlv  over 
setting  the  barbarian  astride1  it,  but  well-nigh  cutting  in 
two  his  light  support,  l-'or  the  life  of  the'  man  who  \\as 
drowning  1  was  none  too  soon,  for  as  the  red-skin  lost 
his  hold  and  disappeared  into  the  lake  his  opponent  came 
up  with  a  heavv,  helpless  lurch,  and  began  slowlv  to 
settle.  Krc  he  was  a  foot  below  the  surface  I  grasped 
him  by  the  collar  of  his  shirt,  and  with  might v  exertion 
hauled  him  into  the  boat,  though  it  was  all  f  could  do. 
and  came  dangerously  near  to  capsizing  the  craft  ;  then 
]  turned  to  the  Indian.  lie  needed  no  attention  of 
mine1,  however,  for  bv  the  time'  1  sighted  him  he  was 
scrambling  ashore,  close  to  a  great  oak  whose  roots 
went  into  the  water.  Once  there,  lie  gave  me  a  villain 
ous  backward  look,  and,  like  a  shade,  disappeared  into 
the  forest. 

Glancing  about  to  see  if  aught  was  ailoat  that  might 
be  saved,  I  at  first  saw  nothing  save  the  wreck  of  the 

12 


The  Voyageur 


canoe  and  two  paddles,  one  of  the  latter  being  split  as 
though  from  a  heavy  blow ;  but  as  I  sat  clown  to  pull  to 
land  with  my  insensible  passenger,  I  marked  something 
black  bobbing  on  the  little  waves.  It  proved  to  be  a 
small  leathern  bottle  closely  corked  with  a  bit  of  corn 
cob  ;  and  nothing  else  to  save  being  in  sight,  I  cast  it 
into  the  boat  and  then  got  to  shore  at  the  place  the 
Indian  had  landed. 

Here  I  hauled  the  unknown  body  to  the  grass.  At 
first  I  rolled  him  without  result,  but  presently  the  water 
gushed  from  his  mouth  as  though  from  a  spring,  and 
after  working  for  above  an  hour — for  I  dared  not  leave 
him  for  help — I  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  him  breathe 
of  his  own  accord,  weakly  enough,  but  life  was  there. 
Thinking  then  that  the  bottle  I  had  recovered  might 
contain  liquor,  I  ran  for  it,  but,  upon  shaking  it,  found 
it  was  empty  of  liquid,  nothing  answering  to  the  shake 
but  a  faint  sound  as  though  a  loose  cork  had  found  its 
way  inside,  and  so  I  sat  down  by  the  man  and  chafed 
his  hands  again. 

While  I  was  doing  this  I  took  notice  of  his  details 
for  the  first  time.  He  was  a  young  man — that  is,  not 
more  than  thirty  years  old,  and  perhaps  less.  His  dress 
was  a  cross  betwixt  that  of  a  barbarian  and  a  habitant, 
being  partly  of  woven  stuff  and  partly  of  the  dressed 
skin  of  the  deer,  with  strips  of  loose  fringe  along  the 
legs  and  sleeves.  He  wore  no  queue,  but  his  wavy 
brown  hair,  now  matted  with  the  wet,  hung  nearly  to 
his  shoulders.  It  was  plain  to  me  that  he  was  but  a 
courcur  de  bois,  or  one  of  those  Canadian  voyageurs  who 
pass  their  lives  on  the  waters  and  in  the  woods  of  the 
wilderness.  They  are  explorers,  hunters,  and  traders 
in  a  small  fashion ;  consorts  of  the  Indians,  and  their 
equals,  too,  in  cunning  and  wood-craft ;  knowing  their 
language  and  their  ways,  and  in  many  instances  their 
equals  if  not  their  superiors  in  treachery  and  the  love 


The   Strength   of  the   Weak 

for  scalps;  men  without  homes,  education,  or  mam 
morals  ;  devils  in  war,  1  had  heard,  and  drunkards  in 
peace,  1  knew,  for  1  had  ;.een  many  a  one  of  them  at 
Three  Rivers,  where  the  tick'  ceases  to  rise  and  fall,  and 
at  Quebec.  As  I  looked  at  him  1  thought  1  had  done 
little  for  the  world  In  keeping-  him  in  it  and  burdening 
the  hospitality  of  the  house,  only  comforting  myself  bv 
the  knowledge  that  I  had  acted  as  a  Christian  should. 

Vet  there  was  something  about  the  face  that  was  not 
repulsive — rather  the  contrary,  in  fact,  for  it  differed 
from  the  coarse-featured  and  pimply  countenances  of  the 
men  of  his  ilk  whom  1  had  met  :  and  when  at  last  he 
slowlv  opened  his  eyes  to  mine,  I  was  puzzled  at  the 
look  they  gave  me.  for  1  had  seen  them  before,  1 
thought.  Certainly  there  was  naught  but  gentleness. 
a  measure-  of  appeal,  and  a  soft  beaut}'  in  them,  and  1 
took  to  their  owner  at  his  first  glance. 

lie  was  not  long  in  coming  around  after  he  found 
his  senses.  Presently  he  moaned  and  shifted  his  hand 
in  a  loose  wav  to  his  head,  and  then  I  saw  the  seal])  had 
been  gashed,  though  not  deeplv;  but  before  f  could  ex 
amine  it  closely  he  turned,  raided  himself  to  his  elbow, 
gave  a  might}-  cough,  and  said  in  I-'rench,  as  if  to  him 
self:  "Mou,  Dicit!  It  is  plain  [  am  born  to  be  hanged. 
since  water  will  not  have  me." 

I  was  about  to  reply  when  he  cast  his  eyes  on  me 
and  asked  quickly  : 

"  What  became  of  the  red-skin  and  the —  At 

that  he  stopped. 

"  Miles  in  the  forest  by  this,"  [  answered;  "  and  ym 
but  slightly  missed  going  in  another  direction,  m'sieur." 

Pie  looked  hard  at  me,  his  big  brown  eves  seeming 
to  bore  through  me,  and  asked  how  it  had  all  come 
about.  I  told  him  the  story  as  shortly  as  I  could,  he 
continuing  to  hold  me  with  his  gaze  as  he  sat  and  lis 
tened,  coughing  his  lungs  clear,  shrugging  his  shoul- 

14 


The  Voyageur 


ders,  and  rubbing-  his  wounded  head  as  he  pulled  himself 
together.     When  I  had  done,  he  said  : 

"  You  are  no  French  dog !  " 

"  I  am  no  dog  of  any  breed,"  I  returned,  with  some 
warmth ;  at  which  he  smiled  feebly,  and,  holding  out  his 
great  hand,  returned : 

"  I  kno\\  that.  I  know  that.  I  would  not  be  un 
grateful.  1  mean  you  are  not  French  by  birth." 

"  Xo,"  I  replied.  "  I  am  of  English  birth  and  breed 
ing." 

I  knew  it  by  the  twist  of  yer  tongue,"  he  answered 
in  English.  "  Xow.  God  be  thanked  that  I  was  saved 
by  one  of  my  own  blood,  though  'tis  a  risk  I  run  by 
saying  it." 

"Then  you  are  not  what  you  seem?"  I  answered 
in  the  same  language. 

"  Aye,  lad,  all  I  seem  and  more ;  the  victim  of  a 
treacherous  Injun,  who  has  gotten  off  with  the  apple 
o'  me  eye  an'  left  all  the  tools  o'  my  trade  at  the  bottom 
of  the  lake — I  mean  my  firearms  an'  the  like.  How 
deep  is  the  water  where  ye  pulled  me  out?" 

"  Eight  or  ten  feet — not  more,"  I  answered ;  "  and 
I  think  I  could  mark  the  spot." 

"  Come,  then,"  he  said,  with  some  vigour ;  "  perhaps 
we  can  get  them,  and  then  I  will  speak  more  to  yer 
satisfaction." 

With  this  he  got  to  his  feet  with  a  spryness  that  made 
me  marvel  at  his  rapid  recovery  from  a  point  close  to 
death,  though  with  a  man  of  his  litheness  and  cat-like 
tenacity  of  life  it  was  no  great  wonder  after  all.  He 
must  have  been  just  short  of  six  feet  tall  as  he  stood  in 
his  moccasins,  topping  me  four  inches,  while  his  breadth 
made  me  small  by  comparison,  though  even  I  am  no 
pigmy. 

Five  steps  brought  us  to  the  boat,  which  I  had 
drawn  up  on  the  shore,  and  as  I  was  pushing-  it  off  the 


The   Strength  of  the   Weak 

stranger's  eye  caught  sight  of  the  leathern  bottle,  which 
I  had  laid  upon  the  seat.  With  a  shout  he  jumped  for 
it,  gave  it  a  shake,  and  thrust  it  into  the  bosom  of  his 
soaked  blouse. 

"  Ah,  lad.  did  ye  rescue  that?  "  he  asked,  with  a  fine 
smile,  which  showed  a  regular  set  of  white  teeth,  lighting 
up  his  face.  "  .Liquor  is  liquor  in  these  parts,  and  so 
scarce  wi'  me  that  ve  will  pardon  me  for  not  sharing 
\vi'  ye." 

A  poor  dram  you'll  get  from  an  empty  bottle."  said 
I.  "It  may  be  of  value  as  a  bottle,  but  not  for  the  wine 
that's  in  it." 

"  How  know  ye  that?"  he  asked,  with  something 
like  a  scowl. 

l>v  trying  it  when  von  were  in  need  of  liquor,"  1 
returned. 

To  this  he  made  in>  answer,  though  his  brows  re 
laxed.  He  let  me  scull  him  to  where  1  thought  his 
canoe  had  been  overset,  for  the  wreck  itself  was  no 
mark,  the  wind  having  driven  it  ashore.  Here  he  made 
no  more  ado  than  to  lean  over  the  side  of  the  boat  and 
plunge  his  head  and  shoulders  beneath  the  surface  of 
the  water,  holding  himself  thus  for  nigh  a  minute,  or 
until  1  thought  he  was  like  to  go  half-drowned  again. 
Then  he  pulled  back  and  simply  said  that  he  saw  his 
rifle  sticking,  muzzle  down,  in  the  ooze  on  the  bot 
tom,  a  trifle  away  from  where  we  floated,  and.  with 
no  preparation  of  any  sort,  he  leaped  over  the  side 
and  disappeared.  Presently  he  came  up  puffing  and 
blowing.  With  one  hand  he  swam  to  the  boat,  with 
the  other  he  threw  therein  the  firearm,  about  which 
were  tangled  the  slings  of  his  powder-horn  and  bul 
let-pouch  ;  then  he  drew  himself  aboard  with  the 
greatest  ease. 

Xow,  all  this  interested  me  mightily,  from  his  mak 
ing  no  mention  of,  or  even  thanking  me  for,  his  nar- 

16 


The  Voyageur 


row  escape  from  being  drowned,  to  his  scanning  the 
bottom  of  the  lake  (which  is  simple  enough  when  one 
knows  how),  and  the  easy  recovery  of  his  piece.  Who 
the  man  was  and  from  whence,  I  hoped  to  find  out  later 
without  asking  unmannerly  questions,  as  he  had  said  he 
would  tell  me  more  ;  but  just  then,  as  he  sat  himself 
astern,  breathing  a  little  hard  from  his  late  exertion,  I 
was  taken  up  by  his  air  of  perfect  self-possession  and 
the  attractive  and  almost  handsome  look  his  face  took 
on  when  he  smiled. 

And  yet,  withal,  though  I  cannot  describe  it,  there 
was  a  look  of  uneasiness  about  him,  and  I  thought  I 
might  be  getting  at  the  cause  when,  as  he  was  pouring 
the  water  from  his  gun  and  untangling  the  gear  about 
it,  he  said  : 

"  Ye  have  many  parties  passing  up  and  down  the 
river  here,  have  ye  not?  I  take  it  by  ycr  rig  that  ye 
live  hard  by." 

"  I  live  just  beyond  this  point,"  I  answered,  pulling 
towards  the  landing  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away.  "  As  for 
parties,  they  come  both  by  road  and  river." 

"  Any  large  ones — that  is,  with  ladies  and — and  say 
officers?  " 

"  Not  lately — none  within  ten  days,"  I  answered, 
at  which  he  fetched  a  long  breath  and  fell  into  sober 
thought. 

We  drew  slowly  along  only  a  few  strokes  from  the 
lovely  shore  through  the  woods  of  which  the  sun  went 
flashing  here  and  there,  and  out  from  which  came  naught 
but  the  merry  rustle  of  leaves  and  piping  of  the  birds 
that  had  lately  returned  to  us.  As  we  fetched  past  this 
long  tongue  of  woodland  I  noticed  my  companion's 
eyes  grow  wide,  and  instantly  he  said,  though  very 
quietly  : 

"  Have  ye  aught  against  me,  lad — I  mean  for  being 
English  ? " 

17 


The   Strength  of  the   Weak 

"  Nay  !  "  said  1.  lie-anil}- ;  bin  ere  I  could  add  a  word, 
lie  said  in  French  : 

"And  so — ( iod  bless  King  Louis;  'tis  a  bee  in  a 
wasp's  nest.  I  hope."  Then  in  Fnglish  again  :  "  Ye  have 
done  me  one  favour  to-day,  for  which  I  yet  have  sonic- 
thing  to  say.  I  )o  me  another  and  stop  rowing — there; 
now  back  the  water  that  the  boat  mav  stand." 

I  was  surprised  at  his  sudden  request  until  1  noticed 
how  fixed  was  his  ga/,e  on  something  ahead,  so  I 
turned  mvself  about.  \Ye  had  just  come  to  a  point 
where  the  landing"  lay  clear  before  me,  and  there  I 
marked  a  large  boat,  newly  arrived,  with  a  party  .step 
ping  therefrom.  1  hev  were  in  plain  sight,  though  not 
near  enough  to  permit  me  to  mark  features  ;  but  one  was 
a  French  officer,  as  I  knew  from  his  white  coat  with  its 
violet  facings;  three  were  soldiers,  from  their  blue  uni 
forms  which  bespoke1  the  militia;  two  were  civilians,  and 
c>ne  was  a  woman.  I  sav  three  were  soldiers,  though, 
bv  his  dress,  one  of  the  three  was  but  a  half  soldier,  for 
he  was  onlv  militarv  in  coat  and  chapcau.  The  crew  of 
the  batteau.  in  apparel  something  after  the  stvle  of  mv 
companion,  remained  behind  until  the  passengers  had 
walked  some  distance  towards  the  manor  house,  and 
then,  with  a  deal  of  luggage.  1  thought,  the}'  followed. 

1  was  not  astonished  at  the  sight.  Ours  being  by 
all  odds  the  most  comfortable  and  commodious  house 
between  Three  Rivers  and  Montreal,  we  had  otten  been 
called  upon  to  entertain  parties,  entirely  unknown  to 
us,  for  a  da}'  and  even  overnight,  though  it  sadly  upset 
the  household.  Hut  policy  alone  compelled  this,  as  it 
would  have  been  dangerous  to  have  done  otherwise  than 
welcome  the  traveller  by  road  or  river  in  this  land 
where  the  door  is  never  shut  on  a  stranger. 

As  1  returned  my  attention  to  the  voyageur,  I  marked 
that  he  was  trembling  like  the  water  about  tis,  though 
his  eyes  were  as  fixed  as  those  of  a  hound  pointing  his 

i  .-> 


The  Voyageur 


prey.  Until  the  new  arrivals  had  disappeared  from  sight 
he  sat  thus,  and  then  he  seemed  to  come  to  himself. 

"  'Tis  the  chill  o'  the  river,  lad;  take  no  notice  of 
it ! "  he  said,  drawing  his  hand  across  his  eyes  as 
though  to  clear  his  vision.  "  I  wish  mightily  to  thank 
ye  for  what  ye  have  done  this  day,  but  I  am  not  a  man  o' 
many  words  in  either  French  or  English.  What  house 
is  yonder?  " 

"  The  manor-house  of  the  Seigneury  De  Mantel," 
I  answered. 

"  Aye!  An'  what  calibre  of  a  man  is  the  seigneur? 
A  dancer  to  Bigot  an'  Vaudreuil,  doubtless." 

"  M'sieur,  I  am  the  seigneur,  but  I  know  not  that 
I  dance  to  any  one,"  I  returned,  \vith  some  dignity. 
"  My  name  is  Chatsworth,  and,  having  saved  your  life, 
I  will  show  you  my  calibre  by  offering  you  the  hospi 
tality  of  my  house." 

His  manner  instantly  changed  from  half  good-will 
to  plain  coolness.  '  'Fore  God,  but  I  have  had  more 
than  one  escape !  "  he  muttered,  and  then  he  spoke 
aloud.  "  M'sieur,  you  are  an  Englishman,  perhaps, 
but  you  speak  the  language  of  our  gracious  king.  Let 
us  use  that  tongue.  I  am  under  a  million  obligations 
to  you  this  day,  but  must  add  to  them  by  accepting 
your  offer.  I  have  a  broken  head,  am  wet  and  hungry, 
and  have  been  half-drowned.  You  will  do  me  an  ad 
ditional  favour  to  forget  that  I  am  English." 

This  was  expressed  in  French,  but  in  a  manner  and 
with  an  accent  so  different  from  that  of  men  of  his  class 
that  instantly  there  shot  through  me  the  suspicion 
that  here  was  an  English  renegade  against  whom  I 
should  be  upon  guard.  His  question  about  passing 
parties  containing  ladies  and  officers  and  almost  on  the 
instant  the  arrival  of  one  tallying  with  his  description, 
\vas  a  matter  of  which  I  then  thought  nothing,  but  it 
had  a  mighty  significance. 


CHAPTER    IV 


As  \vc  approached  the  house  after  landing1.  1  marked 
Peyrotte  coming  rapidlv  around  tin*  east  wing.  To 
my  companion  there  \vas  probablv  nothing  remarkable 
about  the  old  soldier,  but  to  me  his  actions  and  appear 
ance  showed  he  was  disturbed,  for  his  eyebrows  were 
drawn  together  and  his  erstwhile  straightened  back  and 
shoulders  drooped  as  though  he  suddenly  felt  the  weight 
of  his  vears.  As  he  came  to  us,  he  drew  himseli  up 
and  looked  askant  at  the  still  dripping  man  who  walked 
a  pace  or  two  behind  me;  then  he  bent  and  whispered: 
"  Al'sieur,  Cadet  and  his  crew  are  within.  The  madame 
wishes  you  at  once.'' 

The  information  of  the  advent  of  Cadet  was  enough 
to  depress  me,  though  only  in  a  vague  way  did  1  under 
stand  the  possibilities  that  might  ensue.  Hut  much 
more  depressing  was  the  fact  that  my  mother  had  sent 
for  me,  evidently  in  connection  with  the  event.  She 
had  never  done  so  before.  She  and  Peyrotte  had 
hitherto  borne  in  silence  the  brunt  of  the  family  mis 
fortunes,  shielding  me  as  though  I  were  a  weakling ; 
and  T  had  allowed  it,  carelessly  or  selfishly,  as  it  might 
have  been. 

"\Yhat  is  to  be  done,  Peyrotte?"  I  returned,  with 
an  inward  sinking. 

"  If  there  is  not  more  than  the  usual  robbery  to  fol 
low,  God  be  thanked,"  he  rejoined,  without  directly 
answering  my  almost  tremulous  question.  "  \Yho  is 

20 


A   Legal  Thief 


yonder  fellow?      One   of  the   train — a   dog  of  a  voy- 
ageur ?  " 

"  Xay,  Pcyrotte !  Have  him  looked  to.  I  saved 
him  from  the  lake  two  hours  ago  ;  see  to  his  needs,  and 
let  him  go  or  stay.  I  take  him  to  be  an  Englishman, 
though  he  is  read}-  enough  with  his  French.  1  think  it 
were  well  to  beware  of  him." 

I  left  the  two,  and  going  at  once  to  my  mother's 
apartment  (for  an  expressed  desire  from  her  was  a  com 
mand  to  me),  I  knocked  at  the  door  and  entered.  My 
mother  was  walking  up  and  down  the  large  room  with 
distress  plainly  written  on  her  handsome  features.  As 
I  came  up  to  her  and  saluted  she  dropped  into  a  chair. 

Maurice,  my  son,"  she  began  in  English — for  of 
French  she  had  but  half-mastery,  never  conversing 
therein  with  me — "  make  yourself  as  brave  as  possible 
to  meet  these  people.  Cadet  is  here.  Has  not  Peyrotte 
told  you  ?  We  arc  undone  if  we  cannot  conciliate  that 
robber.  What  is  about  to  happen?  He  usually  sends 
to  us  in  the  fall.  What  brings  him  in  person  and  at 
this  time  ?  And  what  mean  the  soldiers  ?  O  Maurice, 
I  am  but  a  woman — and  discouraged — and  helpless  !  " 

"  Be  not  in  a  panic,  mother,"  I  returned,  sick  at 
heart  to  see  her  so  dispirited,  for,  as  a  rule,  she  was 
sedately  calm.  "  It  may  be  but  a  passing  visit  and  with 
out  business,  the  soldiers  acting  as  guards  only.  The 
crops  cannot  be  his  aim  thus  early.  Who  is  the  lady 
with  him  ?  " 

"  The  daughter  of  the  officer,  a  Captain  Dessonier," 
she  answered,  speaking  rapidly.  "  They  all  carry  a 
high  hand — higher  than  ever ;  and  the  captain  would 
have  his  daughter  bestowed  in  the  east  tower  room, 
with  a  soldier  at  her  door  for  orders  or  for  guard,  I 
know  not  which.  What  motive  has  he  for  guarding 
his  daughter  in  this  house?  Can  it  be — "  she  suddenly 
exclaimed,  changing  her  tone — "  can  it  be  that  Brad- 


The   Strength   of  the    Weak 

dock  has  already  taken  Fort  Dnquesnc,  and  they  fear 
us  and  would  watch  us.  we  being  Fuglish?" 

"  Mother,  we  are  under  the  protection  of  the  French 
flag,"  I  relurned.  "  I  know  little  of  state'  inaturs,  but 
there  is  no  war  declared  betwixt  France  and  England  ; 
of  that  I  am  certain,  \\hat  is  the  colon}'  of  Virginia 
to  u^~?  And  the  fight  is  between  it  and  France'." 

"It  is  sufficient  pretext.  They  hate  u>,  Maurice; 
lhev  hate  us  and  are  mining  us.  If  it  were  but  possi 
ble  to  get  from  here!  Your  father  was  murdered  bv 
them — by  one  of  them.  (  )h.  mv  son,  were  you  more 
of  a  man  of  the  world — older,  experienced,  and  more 
self-reliant — that  I  might  tell — 

She  was  interrupted  by  a  knock,  and  a  servant  en 
tered. 

"  Madame,  monsieur  le  capitaine  would  have  imme 
diate  quarters  for  his  men,"  she  said.  "  lie  says,  'Tell 
madame  that  I  shall  occupv  the  east  tower,  beneath  the 
room  of  my  daughter.  MY  men  will  occupv  the  west 
tower.'  Monsieur  Cadet  savs  that  madame  is  to  serve 
dinner  at  five  o'clock.  Madame,  is  it  so?  " 

My  mother  looked  at  me  aghast,  while  for  the  mo 
ment  I  could  do  nothing  but  stare  in  return,  thunder 
struck  at  the  impudence  of  the  message.  Then  some 
thing  within  me  seemed  to  break  and  a  strange  feeling 
beset  me.  For  the  first  time  I  realized  my  useless  posi 
tion  in  my  own  house,  and  saw,  too,  how  pampered  I 
had  been — how  irresponsible  and  boyish  1  appeared. 
1,  a  man  grown,  careless  without  being  weak,  busy 
only  in  the  pleasure  of  hying.  It  was  no  time  to  hesi 
tate,  and  I  saw  that  at  this  juncture  I  must  take  the 
matter  before  us  on  my  own  shoulders,  for  niv  mother, 
evidently  stunned  by  the  high-handed  demand,  remained 
silent. 

"  Let  it  be  so,  Joan."  I  replied.  "  It  has  been  thus 
arranged.  I  had  forgotten  to  attend  to  it."  And  I  faced 

22 


A   Legal  Thief 


the  young1  woman,  hoping  the  lie  would  not  appear 
on  my  features.  The  girl  gave  a  courtesy  and  withdrew, 
while  I  turned  to  my  mother. 

"  Self-reliant,  madame  !  I  have  never  had  a  chance 
to  be.  You  have  been  too  tender  of  me  ;  and  withal, 
we  have  been  strangers  in  nearly  everything  save  love. 
You  have  never  burdened  me  ;  you  have  never  confided 
in  me.  1  know  no  thought  of  yours,  no  wish,  save  that 
your  son  should  be  happy  and  the  estate  prosper.  I 
have  been  poorly  prepared.  The  fault  is  not  all  mine 
that  I  am  unable  to  meet  this  situation  ;  but  the  facts,  as 
1  see  them,  do  not  make  our  future  hopeless.  These 
French  hate  us,  I  know.  If  they  ruin  us,  there  is  Xew 
York  or  Massachusetts  peopled  by  those  of  our  own 
blood,  and  where  a  career  is  possible  and  wealth  not  im 
possible.  Can  we  not  leave  this  place  for  a  time — leave 
until  this  brawl  blows  over?  " 

My  mother's  face  did  not  brighten.  "  Maurice, 
you  have  been  but  half  taught,"  she  answered.  "  You 
do  not  know,  as  I  do,  that  every  avenue  of  escape  is 
closed  against  us  ;  at  least  against  you.  And  if  it  were 
possible  to  get  away,  what  then?  This  is  no  brawl. 
War,  formal  or  not,  exists.  The  estate  would  be  con 
fiscated  and  you  published  as  a  traitor,  for  you  are  a 
French  subject.  Your  title  proves  it.  On  English  soil 
we  would  both  be  beggars,  dependent  on  the  charity  of 
my  uncle,  for  not  a  rood  of  land  could  you  acquire." 

The  last  statement  fell  on  me  like  a  bludgeon,  first, 
because  of  the  mere  fact  (for  that  it  was  a  fact  I  nowise 
doubted,  my  mother  being  sponsor),  and,  second,  be 
cause  there  must  be  some  sinister  reason  for  it — a  reason 
the  nature  of  which  I  could  not  conceive.  I  faltered 
a  moment,  but  finally  said  : 

"  Madame,  I  inherit  this  seigneury  through  the  fact 
that  my  father,  though  an  Englishman,  owed  his  alle 
giance  to  France ;  but  my  father  is  dead.  I  was  born 

23 


The   Strength   of  the    Weak 

on  Fjiglish  soil  and  am  of  Fnglish  blood.  Moreover, 
i  am  not  a  Catholic.  \Yhv,  then,  do  von  say- 
Yon  have  given  the  reasons,  my  son,"  mv  mother 
interrupted.  "That  is  whv  thev  hate  ns  here  :  that  is  whv 
Cadet  is  in  this  house.  What  von  sav  is  trne.  Inn  vonr 
sword  belongs  to  France  :  yonr  name,  votir  existence', 
von  owe  to  France,  (iod  help  me.  but  vonr  Fnglish 
name  is  stained,  Maurice;  vonr  father  was  killed  before 
he  conld  clear  it  I  Yon  must  still  be  for  France:  do 
yon  not  see  the  end  if  yon  prove  faithless?  " 

"The  name  of  Chatsworth  stained!"  1  exclaimed, 
feeling  all  the  blood  in  mv  bodv  surging  to  my  face. 

15  v  no  act  of  dishonour,  mv  son.  Yonr  father  was 
a  martvr  to  Ins  political  opinions.  In  the  davs  of  the 
first  (Jeorge  he  was  opposed  to  the  German  succession. 
lie  tle\v  to  France  to  save  his  life,  and  served  the  voting 
Louis  XV,  under  the  regency  of  Philippe  d'( Jrleans. 
God  forgive  me  for  allowing  von  to  be  kept  in  such 
ignorance,  mv  son.  You  know  votir  father's  first  wife 
was  a  French  woman — the  widow  I  )e  Mantel — childless 
save  for  a  profligate  son  by  her  first  husband.  It  was 
through  her  that  your  father  obtained  his  title  to  this 
seigneury  ;  and  yet,  Maurice,  vonr  father  was  a  stout 
Englishman  at  heart  :  that  is  why  he  would  have'  none 
but  an  English  wife  when  he  married  again,  and  at  the 
time  of  his  death  he  was  seeking  to  make  peace  with  the 
English  authorities;  but  a  Stuart  hater  sat  and  still  sits 
on  the  throne.  Do  yon  yet  think  that  a  warm  welcome 
would  await  you — a  Chatsworth — in  the  colonies?  My 
uncle.  Sir  Peter  Warren,  owns  vast  estates  along  the 
Mohawk,  and  only  bv  his  charity  might  we  be  allowed 
a  few  acres  in  the  wilderness.  We  have  no  other  re 
source.  Do  you  not  see  the  end,  my  son."  " 

That  my  father  had  been  an  Englishman  1  knew,  but, 
to  my  shame  be  it  said,  1  had  known  so  little  of  him.  had 
felt  his  death  so  slightly,  that  I  had  never  inquired  how 

24 


A   Legal  Thief 


lie  had  come  in  possession  of  a  French  seigneury,  and 
the  information  had  never  been  volunteered.  I  knew 
I  was  the  child  of  his  second  marriage  ;  that  his  first 
wife  had  been  a  French  woman  ;  but  I  did  not  know 
of  the  existence  of  a  profligate  stepson.  There  was 
nothing  shocking  in  this  information,  for  I  had  expected 
disclosures  more  material.  I  felt,  however,  all  my 
honoured  mother  wished  to  convey — that  circumstances 
bound  us  to  the  soil  of  Canada,  and  as  an  English  youth 
with  English  instincts,  I  felt  the  gall  of  the  chain.  As 
for  the  name  of  Chatsworth,  I  felt  equal  .to  clearing  it, 
did  chance  but  offer,  and  as  far  as  I  in  my  youthful  short 
sightedness  could  penetrate,  we  had  only  the  present 
situation  to  combat — the  presence  of  Bigot's  agent — 
and  that  was  sufficient. 

I  was  conscious  of  the  intensity  of  my  mother's  gaze 
as  she  sat  awaiting  an  answer  to  her  last  question,  and 
putting  aside  a  vague  something  which  seemed  to  over 
shadow  me,  I  said  : 

"  Perhaps  your  fears  as  to  Cadet  are  not  well 
founded.  I  am  not  schooled  in  politics  or  policy,  but 
it  is  plain  that  we  must  smooth  our  faces  to  that  man 
and  see  what  comes  of  it ;  it  may  not  be  so  black  as  you 
think.  There  is  no  present  need  to  speak  of  swords  or 
fighting.  When  the  time  demands  I  trust  I  will  not 
be  found  wanting ;  I  will  do  my  share." 

"Under  which  king,  Maurice?"  she  asked,  anx 
iously.  "  Ah,  we  have  drifted  from  the  point !  Come 
to  me  to-night.  I  will  tell  you  something  you  know 
nothing  of — I  should  have  told  you  long  ago." 

I  was  about  to  ask  her  to  what  she  referred,  when 
again  there  came  a  knock  on  the  door,  and  the  same 
servant  reappeared. 

"  Madame,   m'sieur  wishes   to   see   madame   in   the 
saloon — M'sieur   Cadet,   madame,"   she   said,   with   the 
stolid  indifference  of  her  class. 
3  25 


"  You  have  delivered  vour  message,"  1  answered, 
promptly,  and  the  woman  retired.  "  i  will  sec  the  man 
at  once,  I  said,  turning  towards  the  door;  but  mv 
mother  laid  a  detaining  hand  on  mv  arm. 

Xo,  my  son;  it  were  policy  i  should  meet  him  as 
he  requested;  he  will  hardly  (hire  offer  me  an  affront 
to  my  face,  (lo  to  I'evrotte.  tell  him  what  1  have  told 
yon,  and  remember  the  altered  hour  for  dinner.  Above 
all,  Maurice,  be  gracious  when  you  meet  these  strangers, 
and  lorgct  not.  lor  your  own  sake,  that  we  are  m  the 
hands  and  at  the  mercy  of  a  legal  thief." 

And  so  1  left  her.  To  say  I  was  perplexed  and 
troubled  would  be  to  say  little  of  my  feelings.  I  was 
becoming  atraid  besides.  Xot  in  fear  of  personal  vio 
lence,  for  there  seemed  no  need  of  that.  It  had  come 
to  me  that  the  weight  of  the  matter  rested  and  >hotild 
rest  on  mv  own  shoulders,  and  neither  could  mv  mother 
nor  L'cyrotto  lighten  the  burden.  1  knew  not  what 
blow  was  about  to  fall,  hut  a  presentiment  of  something 
sinister  was  m  the  atmosphere.  It  was  shown  bv  the 
air  of  authority  used  bv  Cadet  and  his  officer,  and  this 
foreboding  (filed  me  with  a  fear  of  the  unknown.  Mv 
mother  had  told  me  nothing  I  should  not  have  known 
long  before-,  but  her  words  had  come  to  me  with  the 
suddenness  of  a  frigid  blast  in  summer,  and  with  them 
had  come  an  awakening— a  sense  of  self  and  a  Iceling 
of  defiance  which  springs  from  the-  nncrnshed  spirit  of 
early  manhood.  I  low  to  meet  the  iuture  was  bevond 
me.  \  only  knew  that  we  mnsi  attempt  to  placate  the 
bloodsucker  ihen  in  the  house  and  let  time  and  con 
sequences  shape  themselves  thereafter.  \\  hat  we  did 
not  possess  he  could  not  take  from  us.  and  we  might 
easily  live  lower  than  we  were  doing,  though  we  had 
steadily  fallen  in  style  since  my  father's  death. 

It  was  with  no  light  heart  that  I  started  to  find  Pey- 
rotte.  1  was  told  lie  had  gone  to  the  granary,  and  so 

26 


A  Legal  Thief 


followed,  that  I  might  get  comfort  from  him,  a  wish 
which  showed  that  the  weakness  of  youth  still  had 
an  abiding  place  within  me.  But  he  was  not  at  the 
granary,  and  I  returned  to  the  house  by  way  of  the 
orchard.  How  mightily  the  day  had  changed.  The 
sky  was  as  clear,  the  breeze  as  warm,  and  the  birds  as 
full  of  riot  as  before,  but  it  was  all  masked  and  seen 
afar,  as  though  the  joy  of  them  belonged  to  another. 
As  I  arrived  at  the  path  leading  by  the  barns  I  was  sur 
prised  to  come  across  the  voyageur  whom  I  had  res 
cued  and  the  man  formerly  described  as  the  half-soldier. 
They  were  seated  together  on  the  grass  talking  rather 
more  closely  than  newly  met  men  are  apt  to  do  ;  but  they 
saluted  me  as  I  went  my  way,  too  full  of  my  own 
troubles  to  give  them  more  than  a  passing  thought  and 
gesture. 


27 


CHAPTER    V 

Til  !•:     F.  X  1'  LOS  I  ()  X 

I  HAD  decked  mvself  in  all  but  court  finery  when  T 
went  to  my  mother's  apartment  to  conduct  her  to  our 
unwelcome  guests.  So  far  they  had  held  aloof.  My 
mother  had  regained  her  composure,  and  was  the 
patrician  from  to])  to  toe — from  her  powdered  hair 
(white  enough  without  powder)  to  the  lowest  hem  of 
her  stiff  silken  robe,  i  asked  her  the  purport  of  Cadet's 
interview,  and  she  ansuered  that  it  was  only  on  the  mat 
ter  of  the  bestowal  of  his  valet,  but  that  he  had  infonned 
her  his  partv  expected  to  stop  with  us  for  a  day  or  two, 
and  that  he  did  not  care  to  be  disturbed  by  other  visitors 
in  the  interval.  "  Courteously  enough  expressed."  she 
declared,  "  but  brutal  in  the  tone  of  authoritv.  With 
all  his  ill-fitting  politeness  1  can  see  behind  him.  1  fear 
him  and  his  errand  whatever  it  mav  be.  The  man  i.s  a 
beast,"  she  concluded. 

I  had  never  seen  Cadet,  for  hitherto  his  business  had 
been  done  by  a  subagent.  but  both  he  and  the  officer 
were  in  the  great  saloon  as  we  entered.  It  was  a 
noble  room,  designed  for  gaiety  that  had  never  taken 
place,  and  barren  enough  now  in  our  failing  fortune's. 
Cadet  turned  to  us  as  we  advanced:  a  broad-faced 
man,  red  and  bloated;  broad-bodied,  and  with  thick", 
meaty  hands,  the  fingers  of  which  were  covered  with 
rings.  He  wore  a  black  wig,  an  elegant  silk  coat  and 
waistcoat,  with  small-clothes  to  match,  and  silk  stock 
ings;  while  the  buckles  of  his  shoes,  for  gorgeousness, 

28 


The  Explosion 


would  have  put  to  shame  those  of  the  king.  Such  was 
Cadet,  the  future  Commissary-General  of  Canada,  fel 
low  of  Bigot,  the  intendant,  and  companion  of  Yau- 
dreuil,  the  Governor.  God  wot,  what  a  trio  !  For  all 
his  finery,  his  former  trade  of  butcher  shot  from  his 
pig-like  eyes,  and  his  figure  flavoured  of  the  meat-shop. 

His  companion,  Captain  Dessonier,  in  dress  seemed 
tame  beside  him.  He  wore  what  was  apparently  the 
same  uniform  in  which  he  had  arrived.  In  appearance 
he  was  every  way  the  superior  of  Cadet,  being  fairly 
tall,  well  formed,  and  naturally  well  featured.  But  the 
beauty  of  a  pair  of  fine  violet  eyes  was  destroyed  by  his 
furtive  way  of  shifting  his  gaze,  and  his  whole  counte 
nance  was  marred  by  a  surly  contraction  of  the  brows, 
which  looked  to  be  habitual.  In  defiance  of  the  fashion 
of  those  days,  he  wore  beard  and  mustache,  both  soft, 
short,  and  untrained,  while  his  hair  was  simply  gathered 
behind  and  tied  with  a  black  ribbon.  A  close  inspection 
showed  a  countenance  marked  by  dissipation  and  that 
something  which  stamps  the  man  of  low  morals.  If  I 
had  been  looking  for  softness  of  character  I  should  have 
turned  to  his  grosser  companion  rather  than  to  this  man 
who  carried  his  hardness  of  heart  and  tenacity  of  pur 
pose  on  his  face.  He  was  about  forty  years  of  age. 

Under  the  conditions  besetting  me  I  studied  both 
these  men  closely.  In  one  I  saw  a  man  powerful  in 
wealth  and  position,  but  with  a  weak  side — weak  from 
vanity,  perhaps,  which  might  be  got  at.  A  brute 
incapable  of  feeling  except  for  himself,  but  good- 
natured  enough,  as  the  world  goes,  if  fairly  flattered. 
The  other  I  quailed  from.  A  man  of  thwarted  ambi 
tion,  bitter  with  mankind,  wrapped  in  self-love  and 
self-interest,  without  even  the  saving  grace  of  passing 
smoothness.  A  man  who  would  grind  those  in  his 
power  and  be  servile  to  those  above  him  in  wealth  or 
station. 

29 


The   Strength  of  the   Weak 

It  may  well  be  supposed  that  I  was  taking  much  to 
myself  to  pretend,  with  my  inexperience,  to  judge,  at  a 
glance,  of  two  such  men  of  the  world.  I  did  not  sav  to 
myself  that  I  was  reading  them  fairlv,  but  it  was  thus 
they  struck  me,  and  perhaps  intuition  was  mv  strongest 
point  (it  is  with  women  and  children),  for  I  was  hardlv 
fledged  as  a  man.  Anvway,  the  sequel  will  show  how 
far  J  went  astray. 

Cadet  saluted  with  the  air  of  one  out  of  his  element, 
who,  wishing  to  conceal  his  shortcomings,  overdoes  his 
part,  for  his  bow  was  as  low  and  profound  as  though 
he  played  at  mock  servility:  and  mavhap  he  did.  II is 
companion  barely  inclined  his  head,  muttering  some 
worn  compliment  with  a  movement  of  his  lips  alone, 
for  his  teeth  were  closed  as  though  it  were  an  effort 
for  him  to  part  his  jaws  and  speak  clearly.  His  con 
tempt  for  us,  or  his  plain  lack  of  breeding,  was  dis 
played  in  his  turning  his  back  after  the  exertion  of  greet 
ing  his  host  and  hostess,  and  walking  to  the  open 
window.  It  was  evident  that  common  politeness  was 
a  burden  to  him,  and  mv  fear  of  him  gave  wav  to  a  lively 
dislike. 

"  M'sieur  le  Seigneur  C  natsworth,"  said  the  agent, 
after  the  first  formal  compliments,  "  it  may  please  you  to 
know  that  1  am  not  upon  the  king's  service  on  this 
occasion — that  is,  not  entirely — oh,  no! — eh,  captain:''"' 
Here  he  gave  a  smile  that  sent  the  fat  wrinkles  to  his 
neck,  and  he  softly  rubbed  his  beefy  hands  together. 
"  I — that  is,  7».r — have  business  in  this  quarter,"  he  con 
tinued,  glancing  towards  the  man  at  the  window,  "  as 
you  will  soon  be  informed  bv  m'sieur  le  capitaine.  to 
whom  1  would  advise  you —  l>ut  he  was  cut  short  by 
the  officer,  who  had  seemingly  been  lost  in  admiration 
of  the  prospect  without  ;  for.  wheeling  about  on  his  heel, 
he  spoke  almost  fiercely,  though  with  hardly  a  move 
ment  of  his  lips : 


The  Explosion 


''  M'sieur  Cadet,  you  will  oblige  me  by  neglecting 
to  refer  to  me  or  my  affairs.  Have  you  no  sense? 
M'sieur  and  madamc  will  be  enlightened  at  my  dis 
cretion — at  the  proper  time." 

Cadet  appeared  to  be  slightly  embarrassed  in  being 
thus  nipped  short,  but  he  passed  it  off  with  an  awkward 
wave  of  his  hand  and  made  no  reply. 

The  mighty  relief  which  came  over  me  on  hearing 
that  the  visit  of  the  purveyor  of  La  Friponne  was  not 
directed  against  us  made  me  think  lightly  of  the  remark 
of  the  officer,  and  caused  a  sharp  rally  of  my  spirits. 
Even  so  did  it  affect  my  mother,  for  the  worry  fell  from 
her  face  as  though  she  had  removed  a  mask.  I  think 
that  in  our  simplicity  and  gratitude  we  both  might  have 
made  the  mistake  of  thanking  him,  and  thus  have  be 
trayed  that  which  we  most  wished  to  conceal ;  but  just 
then  the  door  opened,  and  a  servant  announced  that 
dinner  was  waiting. 

"  1  do  not  see  Mademoiselle  Dcssonier.  Shall  we 
not  tarry  for  your  daughter,  m'sieur  le  eapitaine  ? " 
asked  my  mother,  as  she  placed  her  hand  in  the  pudgy 
arm  of  Cadet,  who  had  advanced  with  a  flourish. 

"  My  daughter  will  remain  in  her  room,  madame," 
came  the  reply,  without  change  of  voice  or  manner. 
"  She  has  withdrawn  from  intercourse  with  society, 
being  destined  for  a  convent.  She  is  journeying  to 
Quebec  for  the  purpose  of  retiring  from  the  world." 

"  Ah  !  I  had  expected  the  pleasure  of  meeting  her," 
said  my  mother,  and  turned  away  with  her  escort.  I 
offered  my  arm  to  the  captain,  but  he  pretended  not  to 
notice  it,  and  so,  simply  walking  side  by  side,  we  fol 
lowed  the  others  to  the  dining-room. 

This  apartment  \vas  originally  intended  for  a  banquet- 
hall,  but,  like  the  saloon,  it  had  never  yet  fulfilled  its  pur 
pose.  To  my  eyes  it  was  an  immense  room,  with  a 
desert  of  unoccupied  space  about  the  table;  though  it 


The   Strength   of  the   Weak 

had  not  the  barren  look  of  its  companion  across  the 
hall,  for  the  casements  were  hung  with  heavy  curtain,-., 
and  there  was  a  wealth  of  both  rugs  and  fur  robes  scat 
tered  over  the  polished  floor  and  on  the  carved  benches 
against  the  wainscot.  A  huge  fireplace  half-filled  one 
end  of  the  room,  and  even  now,  though  the  window- 
stood  open,  a  small  lire  was  burning  brisklv  therein, 
like  a  torch  in  a  cavern.  Over  the  broad,  carved 
chimne\  piece  the  glitter  of  rapier?,  gun-barrels,  pis 
tols,  and  powder-horns,  as  well  as  masks  and  foils. 
showed  lhai  here  was  the  armorv  of  the  household. 
The  panelled  walls  and  dark,  thick  rafters  overhead 
gave  the  sallc-a-Jiiangct'  a  look  of  richness  which  was 
mighty  satisfying  to  me,  and  it  doubtless  had  some  effect 
on  the  reticent  officer  b\  mv  side,  for  1  marked  his 
violet  eye  sweep  over  everv  detail  of  the  apartment  ere 
we  had  advanced  half-way  to  the  table. 

This  had  been  laid  for  six  people,  lYvrottc  ak.vavs 
dining  with  ns,  though  he  had  not  yet  appeared;  but. 
as  Captain  Dessonier's  daughter  had  failed  ns,  I  placed 
Cadet  at  my  right  hand,  in  honour  of  his  governmental 
position,  and  assigned  the  captain  to  a  seat  next  my 
mother,  thus  leaving  a  vacant  space  on  the  right  of 
either  guest. 

\\'e  had  barely  settled  into  place  when  the  door 
opened  and  two  men  entered  the  room.  (  )nc  was  he 
whom  I  had  marked  talking  to  the  voyageur — the  half- 
soldier,  lie  marched  in  and  stationed  himself  behind 
the  chair  of  the  officer,  glancing  neither  to  the  right  nor 
left,  and  holding  himself  as  stifilv  as  though  on  parade. 
his  military  bearing  being  helped  out  by  the  sword  belted 
to  his  waist.  The  other  was  the  second  civilian — 
Cadet's  valet — of  whom  T  had  heard  and  seen  nothing 
since  leaving  the  boat.  He  was  a  short,  fishv-evcd 
man,  a  small  pattern  of  Cadet  himself,  dressed  in  a  .snuff- 
coloured  suit  throughout,  unmilitarv  in  bearing,  un- 


The  Explosion 


savoury  and  cringing  in  appearance.  As  silently  as  his 
fellow  he  took  his  place  behind  the  chair  of  the  agent, 
and  remained  immovable. 

It  was  doubtless  a  prearranged  act,  as  neither  of  the 
guests  looked  up,  apologized  for  the  intrusion,  or 
seemed  to  notice  the  unusual  proceeding.  I  confess 
that  I  knew  not  how  to  take  this  matter.  It  struck  me 
that  I  might  have  fallen  behind  in  the  manners  of  the 
day,  and  to  protest  the  uselessness  of  an  extra  and  pri 
vate  servant  might  be  to  expose  my  ignorance  of  a  pos 
sible  new  feature  in  court  etiquette.  It  was  evident  that 
my  mother  was  equally  at  a  loss,  for  her  eyes  roved 
from  the  men  to  their  masters  and  to  me,  half  in  ques 
tion  and  half  in  indignation,  while  I  could  do  nothing  in 
return  but  appear  as  unconcerned  as  though  it  were  a 
matter  of  every-day  occurrence. 

But  if  this  incident  gave  me  surprise,  another  fol 
lowed  hard  upon  it  and  cast  it  into  the  shade.  It 
caused  me  to  widen  my  eyes,  though  I  allowed  no  other 
sign  to  escape  me.  Barely  had  the  new  arrivals  taken 
their  stations  and  the  first  shock  of  their  appearance 
passed,  when  the  door  of  the  pantry  opened,  and  Pey- 
rotte,  whom  I  had  not  seen  since  early  morning,  strode 
into  the  room.  To  me  he  was  an  astonishing  sight. 
Clad  in  the  full  uniform  of  an  officer  or  a  soldier  (I 
knew  not  which)  of  the  Royal  Guard  or  Musketeers  of 
the  old  Court  of  Louis  XV,  he  advanced  across  the 
saloon,  his  side-arms  and  spurs  clinking  to  his  step, 
as  handsome  a  specimen  of  the  military  arm  as  could  be 
imagined.  Without  a  word,  a  gesture,  or  a  look,  he 
placed  himself  behind  my  mother's  chair,  as  though  it 
were  a  regular  duty.  His  face  was  a  study,  but  I  dared 
not  study  it.  I  looked  at  my  mother,  and  her  counte 
nance  showed  how  completely  she  had  been  taken  aback, 
though  to  all  but  myself  she  still  held  a  calm  exterior. 
Cadet  glanced  at  the  tall  and  martial  figure  in  open 

33 


